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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26244535">Ginger Smokeshow</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DRHPaints/pseuds/DRHPaints'>DRHPaints</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Conan O’Brien, Conan O’Brien RPF, Late Night Host RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Conan at The Largo, Cunnilingus, Desk Sex, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hair Kink, One Shot, Quarantine, Sir Kink, Smut, Vaginal Sex, hair porn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 13:01:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,188</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26244535</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DRHPaints/pseuds/DRHPaints</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Conan is filming at The Largo and his staff member, Elena, finds herself mesmerized by his over-long hair. When everyone leaves the theater, they stay behind for some fun.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Conan O’Brien/Original Female Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Ginger Smokeshow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/damn_conan/gifts">damn_conan</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
  <span>Sitting in the almost deserted audience, notebook resting on her knee, Elena narrowed her eyes. “Hey Billy?” She stood up, tilting her head and pointing. “Could you move that light maybe half a foot to the left? We’re getting a bit of shadow on the right side of the desk.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>“No problem.” Billy nodded, effortlessly hoisting the light. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Elena smiled. “Great, thank you.” Resuming her seat, Conan’s tall figure emerged from backstage in a black t-shirt and dark wash jeans, clapping his freckled hands together before tucking his long legs under the desk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>“Alright, everybody ready?” The mask-bedecked crew of not more than half a dozen people nodded and Elena sat back in her chair, pen at the ready should she notice any issues that may need to be rectified in post as the cameras started to roll. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>As was typical over many of their quarantine shows, Conan began by complaining about his overlong hair. Griping about how he could barely see and it was becoming ridiculous. Elena, however, found herself grateful for the face mask as she watched Conan’s long, dexterous fingers glide effortlessly through his lustrous ginger locks, a warm blush rising on her cheeks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Always finding him attractive, in the year or so she’d been working for Conan, Elena’s crush had grown feral, and she would catch herself staring at him in the halls, zoning out while they were taping at the studio, and coming up with excuses to walk past his office. When he was doing the ‘At Home’ episodes and she was informed they would be having a one-on-one Zoom call, Elena spent the better part of an hour dolling herself up, only for Conan to make her laugh so hard she smeared her perfectly applied eye makeup, and afterward she hoped her flirting hadn’t been too shameless.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>But now that they were back in a semi-regular fashion doing shows at The Largo, for which Elena was still surprised she was one of the employees tapped to be in attendance, it was even more difficult. Constantly casual, Conan looked especially delicious in his natural state. Freckles aflame from too much time in the sun, which concerned her a little on behalf of his pale complexion, though she figured it wasn’t her place to chide him. Foregoing the tie and jacket, wearing whatever he chose, Conan looked like the kind of man who would walk up to you in a bar with an original joke and a confident smile, and if you’d let him, he’d fuck you hard enough you’d forget your own name.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Shaking her head, Elena forced herself back to reality. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Get. It. Together. </span>
  </em>
  <span>But Conan was </span>
  <em>
    <span>still </span>
  </em>
  <span>playing with his damn hair. Allowing the gorgeous orange mop to tumble forward, only to toss it back, his sharp chin tipping up, long neck extended, sculpted jawline popping as the tangerine tendrils cascaded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh fuck me…”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Elena whispered, suddenly grateful for her mask and social distancing for yet another reason. Finally, Conan began the interview, and Elena assumed she was in the clear, until the merciless man started to compare his quarantine hair with Jason Sudeikis, digging those lengthy fingers into his roots and pulling the apricot strands out as far as they would go. Elena’s mouth filled with saliva and she crossed and uncrossed her legs, smoothing over her yellow sundress and trying to ignore the tingling between her thighs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Then Conan whipped his head from side to side, buoyant hair bouncing. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck, he’s literally tossing it around like he’s on </span>
  </em>
  <span>Baywatch </span>
  <em>
    <span>this is actual torture.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Nails gripping the seat, Elena tried to hyperfixate on her job. Scanning for an intrusive boom, a flickering light, anything, </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything, </span>
  </em>
  <span>that would distract her from how desperately erotic she found Conan and his iconic collapsed pompadour.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Taping eventually drawing to a close, the cameraman, boom and light operators packed up, walking out of the back. Elena was tucking her notebook into her bag and hoisting it over her shoulder when Conan called out to her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>“Hey, Elena.” Crooking a finger in her direction, he leaned back against the desk, extended legs crossed at the ankle. Ascending the stage, Elena tucked her crimson hair behind her ear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>“Yes, sir?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Tilting his head, Conan combed his fingers through his hair. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Damn him. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“How did things go today?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>“Oh well,” Unzipping her bag, Elena unearthed her notebook and flipped to the corresponding page. “One of the string lights in the back was flickering a bit during your opening. And I </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span> we might have gotten a bit of boom in the shot when you went to open the stage door, but both should be easy enough to fix in post, sir.” She looked up at him, nodding.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Conan laughed. Even after all this time, his laugh still got to her. The way his entire face would illuminate, eyes crinkling, exposing his dazzling smile, and how when you really got him going, he would clutch his belly and half the time push himself into fits of coughing, which for whatever reason, Elena found incredibly endearing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>“How many times…” Conan closed his eyes, shaking his head and grinning. “How many times have I asked you to call me ‘Conan,’ Elena?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Smiling sheepishly, Elena shrugged. “Probably around a thousand, sir.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>“And yet here you are still calling me ‘sir’.” Conan’s eyes scanned her and Elena felt the heat rise in her face, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “Hey,” He uncrossed his arms, resting his sizable hands back on the desk. “Why don’t you take your mask off? I trust you’re careful. I’m not worried about it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Elena lifted a hesitant hand. “Oh...okay, sir.” Removing her mask, she tucked it into the front pocket of her bag and smiled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>“Much better.” Beaming, Conan rocked forward into a standing position, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Why do you call me ‘sir,’ anyway?” He tilted his head at her curiously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Shrugging, Elena found she couldn’t look directly at him. “I, um...I guess I don’t really know, sir…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Conan took a couple of steps toward her. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This is definitely less than six feet apart. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“You don’t?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Elena could hear her heartbeat throbbing in her ears. “N-no, sir...not really.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Getting closer, she could smell him now. Bergamot, citrus, and something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Something that was just...</span>
  <em>
    <span>Conan.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>“I think I know why…” Conan’s voice was deeper, but soft as his tall form craned over her and Elena’s breath hitched as she slowly lifted her gaze to meet those piercing crystalline blue eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>“Why...why is that, sir?” She swallowed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Swiveling his body in close, the tips of Conan’s fingers grazed her elbow delicately as he lowered his thin lips, breath warm on her ear. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I think you want me to boss you around.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>A shiver went through Elena as though someone had dropped an ice cube down the back of her dress. With a shuddering breath she answered. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes, sir.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>One hand cupping her face, Conan’s arm snaked about her waist as his thin lips captured hers. Elena let out an audible exhale as her mouth opened beneath him and his tongue crawled past her teeth, intertwining with her own and tilting his head to explore further. Elena’s fingers lustfully sought his scalp, weaving into the luscious mass of orange and drawing his face close as she hummed against Conan’s lips. Conan grazed her breast as he brought both hands to her waist, guiding Elena back to the desk and encouraging her to sit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Breaking away, Conan clenched his teeth, every muscle in his sharp jaw flexing as his eyes widened for half a second. “Take off your panties.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Already breathing hard, Elena nodded. “Yes, sir.” Bunching her yellow dress at the waist, she worked her underwear down her hips, kicking them to the floor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Cerulean eyes examining her, Conan gave a curt nod. “Spread your legs.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>“Yes, sir.” Parting her knees as wide as she was able, Elena braced her wrists back on the desk, seeing Conan’s nose flare and his tongue flash over his lips as he stared at the pink, moist flesh between her thighs. Stepping forward, Conan notched himself between her legs, dipping down to fuse their mouths together, cradling Elena’s head in one wide palm before pulling away, resting against her forehead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>“Do you want me to taste you?” Voice somehow vulnerable yet firm, Elena’s skin felt electrified as Conan’s other hand delicately tickled down her thigh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes, please, sir.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Sinking to his knees, Conan brushed his lips over the insides of Elena’s thighs before parting her with his fingers. Beginning by gently lapping her, apparently Conan found something about it dissatisfying. For after a couple of minutes, he stopped, made an almost animalistic growl, hoisted both of her legs over his shoulders, clamped his big hands over her hips, dragging her to the edge of the desk, and dug his sculpted jaw forward, licking and sucking Elena’s clit with a barbaric voracity that made her shriek.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <em>
    <span>“Holy...sir! Fuck...FUCK!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Elena fisted her hands in Conan’s long ginger hair, writhing underneath him and moaning. Focusing his ministrations, Conan’s mouth tightened around her clit, rolling her between his thin lips and flicking Elena with his tongue until her heels were digging into his back and she was dripping down his chin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck, sir! You’re gonna make me cum! Fuck! Fuck!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Shamelessly humping his carved face, Elena’s thighs shook atop the desk as she tugged at the light red strands and her eyes rolled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Giving her no recovery time. Conan inserted two lengthy fingers deep inside, curling up to pulse against the soft bundle of nerves until Elena’s screams echoed off of the empty theater walls. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes! Fuck! Yes! Conan!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Practically tearing the roots from his scalp, Elena seized, clenching and wet around Conan’s fingers as her thighs muffled his ears, body rocking back and forth in ecstasy before collapsing in a fit of tremors.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Emerging, Conan lifted the neck of his t-shirt and wiped his face, hands flowing up Elena’s weary body to caress her cheek. Heavy eyelids rising, she saw Conan’s handsome visage peering down at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>“You okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Managing to bring a trembling hand to her forehead, Elena lifted an eyebrow. “Okay? That was spectacular, sir.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Chuckling, Conan smiled humbly, fingers tracing her collarbone and coming to rest in the hollow of her throat. Lips barely touching hers, Conan drew back and studied her face. “Do you want me to fuck you now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Elena polished one of his prominent cheekbones with her thumb. “Yes, sir.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Reaching into his pocket, Conan retrieved a condom and undoing his jeans, rolled it over what Elena discovered to be his massive cock before positioning himself between her legs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>“Ready?” Conan asked, oceanic eyes searching her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Nodding, Elena took a deep breath. “Yes, sir.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>Moving forward slowly, Elena gasped as she was expanded by Conan’s thick cock. “Mmm...fuck </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Conan breathed, resting one palm on the desk, the other gliding between Elena’s legs to stimulate her clit. Rolling his hips, Conan withdrew only partially at first, then more, driving into her further and faster until he was pounding Elena against the desk and she could hear the base scuffling across the carpet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes! Fuck! Yes! Just like that! Don’t stop!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” She called out, hooking her hands  behind Conan’s neck to grasp the tendrils of hair, now damp from his extreme exertion. Rutting her hips up, Elena locked her ankles behind him as Conan hammered inside and he could feel her fluttering around his cock.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <span>“Yeah, you like that?” Conan spoke through gritted teeth. “You like when I fuck you </span>
  <em>
    <span>So. Damn. Hard?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Slamming into her on each word for emphasis, Conan rattled high-pitched moans from Elena and could only see the whites of her eyes as she frantically responded. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes, sir, yes! I love it! Fuck me! FUCK ME!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bearing down, Conan gripped the opposite edge of the desk and strands of sweaty red hair danced in Elena’s vision as he rocketed forth, thumb spinning over her clit. Conan’s balls were tightening against his body, so he hastened his ministrations, tucking his face to Elena’s ear. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I want you to cum with me, Elena. Please. Cum with me. Cum with me.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His broken whimpers overwhelming, Elena constricted around Conan’s cock once more, crying out and drawing her nails over his scalp, quivering as they shot over the precipice of their desire, clinging to one another, mouths agape and eyes pinched before relaxing into a shivering heap.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gulping oxygen, Conan combed back his dewy hair, kissing the spot where Elena’s jaw met her neck before pushing himself up. After taking a moment to piece herself together, Elena sat up on unstable forearms, smiling tiredly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well,” Elena glanced around at the empty theater. “That isn’t how I expected this work day would go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zipping himself up, Conan shook his head. “Me neither. Also,” Conan smirked. “Probably not the kind of show The Largo expected on their stage.” Laughing, Elena trailed her fingers through Conan’s hair one more time before standing and gathering her things.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for taking the time to read! If you enjoyed this story, please leave a comment or come say hi on tumblr at fandomtransmandom. I also take requests!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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